Inconstant Moon? No Problem

A real forest of sorts sweetens the atmosphere: center, Andre Braugher and Lily Rabe in “As You Like It,” at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park.Credit
Sara Krulwich/The New York Times

To say I am not an avid outdoorsman is a gross understatement. From my perspective, civilization as we know it dates to the invention of air-conditioning, and the whole point of living in New York City is the opportunity it affords to bypass nature completely and its many discomforts and outright perils.

So you might conclude that Shakespeare in the Park, the beloved summer institution created by Joseph Papp and going strong some 50 years later, would have me grumbling about bugs, heat, rain and a paranoid fear of falling tree limbs. (Not so paranoid, that, which is why I remain immune to the vaunted charms of Central Park.) I’ll cop to some resistance born of unhappy experiences, like the insufferably muggy night that I sweltered through “The Skin of Our Teeth,” and a performance of “The Merchant of Venice” that stretched until midnight after the skies opened midway through the first act, necessitating a 45-minute pause during which the audience huddled under the theater’s narrow eaves.

But I have come to appreciate — even look forward to — the undeniable pleasures of the experience, particularly in recent years, as the Public Theater has raised its Shakespeare productions to a generally high standard. The comedies in which natural realms are benign, healing influences play particularly well outdoors. Having a real forest (or what can pass for one) portray the role of the Forest of Arden in “As You Like It” sweetens the atmosphere of that play. Ditto “A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” wherein the heart’s confusions are sorted out as the lovers tear through the woods surrounding Athens. I have no idea what the shores of Illyria were like, but watching “Twelfth Night” unsheltered by protective covering helps usher us into the experience of the play’s shipwrecked characters.

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A scene from the Shakespeare in the Park production of "The Comedy of Errors."Credit
Sara Krulwich/The New York Times

Seeing Shakespeare outdoors turns the playgoing experience into something more elemental and primal than it usually is, reminding us that this art form was born in outdoor auditoriums in ancient Greece and flourished anew during Shakespeare’s day at theaters like the Globe, which were not enclosed spaces, either. The lesser folk — groundlings — who stood to watch performances at the Globe would brave whatever weather came their way. They still do today at the facsimile constructed on the South Bank of the Thames — a hugely successful enterprise.

And, for many, seeing Shakespeare outdoors frees it from the suffocating air of elitism — or cultural homework — that can often cling to it. The most responsive audiences I’ve ever been a part of have been those at the Delacorte, most of whom, I suspect, are not regular theatergoers punching a cultural ticket, but people who simply come because it’s free and it’s fun — an unbeatable combination. Attending Shakespeare in the Park feels more like going to a baseball game, where you expect to be engrossed but are free from the threat of edification. Many of the more high-minded, assiduous (and deep-pocketed) theater lovers I know shrug and demur when urged to go see something at the Delacorte; they can’t be bothered to stand in line to score a ticket.

These days, more often than not, it’s their loss. (Unless Al Pacino happens to be involved, in which case they can placidly wait for the transfer to Broadway.) Having been charmed by the first offering this summer, a buoyant, 1940s-set production of “The Comedy of Errors,” I am excited to see the second, which begins Tuesday: a new musical adaptation of “Love’s Labour’s Lost,” featuring songs written by Michael Friedman, the house composer of the enterprising young company the Civilians.

So consider me a convert, a cheerleader, even a proselytizer at times. And since I live downtown, attending Shakespeare in the Park performances brings an added benefit. I visit the Upper East Side almost as infrequently as I go hiking. (Yes, it’s happened on rare occasions, and I’ve spent the whole time fearing ticks and rock slides.) A 15-minute stroll from the Delacorte brings me to one of the best bars in the city, Bemelman’s at the Carlyle Hotel, where I can ponder the merits of the performance with a martini at hand, while savoring the fundamental pleasure of being safely indoors again.

A version of this article appears in print on July 19, 2013, on Page C25 of the New York edition with the headline: Inconstant Moon? No Problem. Order Reprints|Today's Paper|Subscribe